Twist of Fate
by Lady Nightwisp
Summary: What If' sequel! Finally! The gang is returning home to England, but will they make it? And if they do what danger awaits them there? Will/Djaq Robin/Marian
1. Prologue

Disclaimer: I don't own Robin Hood. Although this is my own version of Fate I don't own the idea.

Author's note: Finally got this written! Yeah!!! I'm so sorry it took so long. Updates probably won't be as regular as they were for 'What If', but I'll try. I'm working on the first chapter right now. Just so you know Fate will not be a regular character or anything. She may make one more appearance, in an epilogue, but that's it.

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Fate sits enthroned high above the earth. To describe her would be impossible. She is beautiful beyond words. The throne is clearly not any mortal crafting. Created from pure moonlight and bedecked in glittering stars it truly shines. It is from this lofty perch that she has ordered men's lives since the day the earth was made. She watches the world in the crystal pool at her feet and changes it on her every whim. She brought about the rise and fall of Rome and the destruction of Troy. She made Arthur king and sent Mordred to end his reign. There were many heroes she had favored, only to let them fall. It amuses her to destroy those she makes indestructible. Time is meaningless to her. For the Lady of Destiny, mortals are mere playthings; cherished one day, reviled the next. She is an ancient deity, neither good nor evil. She simply is.

Tonight, with the night sky wrapped around her like a shimmering velvet cloak, she was watching one of the many heroes she had raised above men. She had given him a strong love of justice. She had made him the best archer in England. She had sent him to fight in a distant land and there had taught him compassion. She had brought him home to find that those he loved were being oppressed and forced him to rise up against their oppressor. She had created a loyal band of friends to fight by his side. His name was spoken throughout the land. But, she was getting bored now. It was time to get rid of this toy.

Somewhere, between England and the country known as the Holy land, a storm began to brew. Within three days, a small ship, which was taking men home from the crusades, would sail directly into the gale and be destroyed.

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Thanks for reading! Hope you enjoyed:)

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	2. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: Don't own it, never will:(

Author's Note: Sorry I didn't post earlier. I would have, but this chapter and the next few did not have a specific order and I wanted to finish all of them before I posted so I could put them in the most logical order. You'll understand what I mean when I post the next few chapters(which will be as soon as I get them typed up). This chapter, ironically, was written last.

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I am standing on the deck, watching the storm. The lightning is dancing across the sky, bright as day one second, pitch black the next. The thunder booms and rolls and the waves seem hundreds of feet high. I've never seen such a display. They say that storms at sea are the worst kind, but this is beyond anything I could imagine. It feels as if the wrath of the heavens is upon us. Even the sailors, who have sailed this route many times, have never seen anything like it. And it happened so suddenly. Less than a day ago it just appeared out of nowhere. I am starting to wonder if this is truly a natural storm. It seems almost possessed.

Only Robin and I are still above decks, tied to the ship for safety. The rest of the gang went below hours ago. Robin thinks I should join them but I refuse. I will not leave him and I don't want to go below anyways. It is dark and cold and cramped down there. Up here I throw my head back and laugh, the wild night invigorating me even as it seeks to destroy me. Robin shares my feelings, I know. We always did love defying death. Suddenly, he stops cold, a hard thing to do on the pitching and rolling ship.

"The rocks!"

He is running to warn the captain by the time I see what he means. Directly in our path several jagged rocks are sticking straight out of the water. If we hit them, we will certainly be destroyed. I can feel the ship trying desperately to turn, but it's already too late.

I watch with horror, unable to turn away, as we sail towards our doom. The crash of wood hitting rock, boards cracking and splitting, water rushing into the hold. In that moment I know with dreadful certainty that I am going to die here, in the middle of the ocean. I'm terrified, more afraid than I've ever been. My mind seems to be working faster than ever, wondering exactly how I will die. The boards beneath my feet give way and I'm engulfed in water.

Robin! Where is Robin?! I can't see him. The water is ice cold and tastes of salt. It burns my throat, choking me. I try to keep my head in the air, but I can't tell up from down. Echoes of thunder roll in my head and I'm not sure if I'm truly hearing it or if it's just my mind. Every breath is I struggle. Why do I need to breathe? I can't remember. I can barely remember my own name. I fight the current dragging me down, but it's futile. Why am I fighting? I should just let the water carry me where it will. I go still and do just that. _No! _a part of me screams _I can't give up!_ I ignore it. Still, I can't banish the thought that I've just lost the most important fight of my life. But I'm too tired to fight, too tired to think, too tired to _live_.

I can feel myself slipping away… away… away…

This is it; the end of everything.

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"Marian! Marian!" Djaq called the limp woman's name "Come on, wake up!" Marian coughed weakly and Djaq smiled slightly to see her healing skills taking effect. Her friend would survive. Marian's eyelids fluttered open and she glanced around in confusion.

"Where am I?" she asked quietly. Djaq faltered.

"I'm not sure." She admitted.

"There was a shipwreck." Marian recalled. Djaq nodded.

"I never imagined such a thing back home. Where I come from, rain is a blessing. But that? That was a curse."

"I can't argue with that." Marian agreed. She sobered suddenly. "Where are the boys?"

Djaq turned away so Marian wouldn't see the tears in her eyes. She couldn't answer that question. Her thoughts turned to Will and she felt her strength disappearing. She had seen no trace of any of the other members of the gang. But they couldn't be dead. Will couldn't be dead. And yet…

_Where are you, my love? _She cried silently. She received no answer.

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Thanks for reading :D

Btw, the first part of the chap was Marian's POV if you didn't get that.

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	3. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: How many times do I have to tell you? I do not own Robin Hood. The BBC does.

Author's Note: Yay! An update! I actually remembered to update! This is kind of a late christmas gift to you guys, especially Tori :)

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Robin Hood, legendary hero of England, found himself sprawled on the seashore, soaking wet. Where was Marian? Where was the gang? He looked around, but the beach was empty aside from him. His head dropped back to the sand. He couldn't be the only one! Without the others he was nothing.

He lay there for a long time, until finally his powerful survival instincts kicked in. He had to get up. He had to get off the beach and find somewhere safer. He fought the instincts, wanting nothing more than to stay here forever. Survival without the gang seemed pointless. But, eventually, he pulled himself together and tried to stand. Immediately, a sharp pain coursing through his ankle forced him back to the sand. He examined the injury and found it to be nothing more than a sprain. He sighed in relief. A broken ankle would have been really bad. But there was still the problem of getting away from the beach and into the forest beyond it, where he would be safer. He couldn't walk with his injury, but if he could find some way to make a crutch…

He scanned the beach again, searching for anything that could aid him. There! Lying in the sand, not five feet away, was Little John's quarterstaff. He crawled over to it and used it to push himself to his feet. He refused to think about the man this weapon had belonged to. Thinking about John would only hinder his survival and hurt him. He just had to survive. He had once heard the saying 'where there's life, there's hope.' As long as he lived he could hope that the others were okay too. He pushed away any thoughts of the gang, or the future, or the past, and simply focused on each step. Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, he reached the cover of the trees. He knew he was still far from safety, but it was a start.

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Allan cursed as he once again tripped over a rock. Wherever he was, it was much rockier than Sherwood.

"Have I seen that tree before?" he wondered aloud. He knew it was quite possible that he was going in circles. He had never had a particularly good sense of direction and when Little John had offered to teach him some navigational skills he had scoffed at the idea. After all, when was he going to need it? But, of course, now he was shipwrecked who-knows-where and totally lost. He was really starting to wish he had accepted John's offer. Note to self: try to think ahead every once in a while. He wondered if the rest of the gang was okay. He hoped so.

The worst part of being lost, in the sarcastic liar's opinion, was that there was no one to talk to. Sure, you could talk to trees, but that got boring after a while. After all, it's not very much fun to insult something that won't get worked up about it, like Much usually did. Allan had tried to attack the trees, to keep his mind off the insane boredom, but his sword had gotten stuck almost immediately and he had spent almost an hour trying to get it out. He had almost decided to leave it behind, but the thought of being lost **and** unarmed really didn't appeal to him.

As he passed the same tree for the fifth time, he groaned.

"Stupid trees!"

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